


You Again

by nellipot



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-28 11:23:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nellipot/pseuds/nellipot
Summary: “Stop telling me to come over and you won’t have to hear the song anymore.” Timmy smirked, biting his lip and glancing up through his eyelashes. Armie hated how smug he looked, more so he hated how true it was.Armie's a frat boy who screws a lot, and one night it ends up being Timmy.





	You Again

**Author's Note:**

> Why did this take me three weeks to finish?

“Do you have to play that song again?”

Armie watched Timmy look up briefly from his lazy sprawl on the bed, wearing nothing but half a navy bedsheet on one thigh. 

“It’s a good song,” He frowned, going back to typing on his phone, settling himself better in the cushions.

“I _know_ you think it’s a good song, I’ve heard it five times this weekend alone.” He picked up a shirt off the floor and threw it at Timmy’s chest, making him grunt like it was a thirty-pound cinder block. Dramatic. 

“Stop telling me to come over and you won’t have to hear the song anymore.” Timmy smirked, biting his lip and glancing up through his eyelashes. Armie hated how smug he looked, more so he hated how true it was. 

He lunged, reaching over and grabbing Timmy’s phone out of his hand, hitting pause and throwing it onto his laundry-covered desk chair. He was smiling triumphantly until he watched Timmy give him a blank stare, shrug, and reach over to the nightstand.

“You can’t even -”

The song was back on in less than two seconds.

“How the _fuck_ do you know my password?” Armie gritted out, making to snatch his phone out of Timmy’s hand, but Timmy held it up high and out of reach.

“Oh yeah, your age and the last two digits of the year you were born was a real stumper,” Timmy said mockingly. Armie batted at his bare chest and crawled up the bed, because this was more about _principle_ than anything at this point, he wasn’t going to lose in his own bedroom. But Timmy wrapped one leg around Armie’s waist when he got closer, scraped his nails across his shoulder blades, and hummed into his ear, because Timmy didn’t play fair.

“Hi,” He whispered, grinning when Armie leaned back to look at him, his dick a firm line on Armie’s belly. 

“You’re infuriating.” Armie huffed, grabbing Timmy’s ass, and then his other leg, to wind around himself too.

“Huh,” Timmy frowned. “Does Little Armand think I’m infuriating?” He got his hand between their bodies and into Armie’s briefs, stroking him with a puzzled look. “Nope.”

“Stop calling my dick _Little Armand_ , it’s not fucking little.” 

“Believe me, I know that.” Timmy said, tonguing the corner of his mouth, giving Armie the look he gave him the first time he saw him, with his stupid ‘fuck me’ eyes and pink lips. Who was he kidding, he _always_ looked like that.

But that first time, as Timmy leaned on the island of their kitchen, one hand balanced on the granite and the other nursing something in a red cup, Armie’s interest immediately peaked. 

He fell off the girl he was grinding against, unclasping her hands from his hair with a kiss to her neck and a mumble about getting another drink. He pushed his hair off of his sweaty forehead and decided making a beeline for this dude was a great idea, was incredibly smooth.

“Who are you?” He asked when he got there, not meaning for it to sound so accusing but not caring when it did. Timmy looked up at him while still sipping his drink, his eyebrows high, and when he took the cup away from his face his lips were pursed when he swallowed. Armie didn’t watch for his reply, too busy fumbling around the counter, picking up bottles and checking if they were empty, compiling whatever shit he could find into a cup he’d found and poured any remnants out of.

“You’re wearing two polos on top of each other.” He’d replied instead, slightly slurring, his voice husky from his gulp. Armie looked down to check. Yup. 

“That’s so _douchey,_ ” Timmy said, one hand up on Armie’s shoulder now, the closest thing to a whisper he could manage with the music blasting in the living room.

“You wanna take it off me?” Armie grinned, holding on to his elbow and pulling him in.

Timmy groaned, looking at his chest, fingering one of the popped collars and wincing. “God, I kind of do.” Armie grinned wider, blinking slowly.

“Sick.”

He grabbed Timmy’s jaw and licked into his mouth, felt him reciprocate with an eager hum. His lips were as soft as they looked, and Armie swirled his tongue over them before putting the bottom one between his teeth.

“Fucking fuck.” Timmy gasped, both of Armie’s hands trapping him against the counter as he mouthed at Timmy’s throat. He could feel how hard they both were, stuck a hand between them to pet at Timmy through his jeans. 

“Woah! Woah there,” Timmy panted, pushing Armie a few inches away. “Let’s -” He scrunched his face, looking for the words. “Room?”

“Yeah.” Armie said, nodding, kissing him for a few more seconds then taking his wrist. “Yeah.”

“Sersh!” Timmy yelled, yanking Armie back to where they were standing, the momentum smacking them together. Armie grabbed at his waist from behind. He only heard pieces of a conversation - too busy licking up the shell of Timmy’s ear, then biting his shoulder when he was batted away.

“I don’t fucking know, he’s hot, just let me have this.”

With that he was allowed to continue pulling Timmy up the steps, slamming him into his door when it shut behind them. 

“You’re hot too.” Armie said, making Timmy chuckle, lifting him up against the wall. Timmy wrapped his legs around his waist and Armie splayed both hands on his ass, squeezing and kneading as they kissed, making Timmy moan into his mouth. 

“Let me down so I can suck you off.” Timmy breathed. His lips were wet but he licked them anyways, just to wipe them on his shirt sleeve in the next second. Armie carried him to the bed instead, barely seeing through the waves of curls in his face as Timmy clung to his neck. Timmy rolled them over as soon as he could, crawling off the bed and onto his knees. 

“Pull my hair,” Timmy said, when he got Armie’s dick out of his shorts. 

“Fuck.” Armie strained, his voice breaking as he took a handful and dragged him closer, making Timmy’s eyes roll back. He asked for Timmy’s name two minutes in, when his dick was halfway down his throat. Timmy’s eyes rolled again but not out of pleasure. 

“Timmy.” He said, one hand still moving up and down.

“Armie.”

Timmy gave him the normal puzzled look that everyone did, but in the end only said, “I’m gonna ride you.” 

He climbed up to straddle Armie’s hips, pulling off his shirt in one motion and a shake of his hair. Armie scooted them back towards the bedpost and ran his hand across Timmy’s ribs, his stomach, pulled him close to lick at his nipples. 

“Get these _off_ ,” Armie huffed, tugging hard on his belt loops. 

“Get your fucking polos off, _bro_ ,” Timmy smirked, kissing him one more time before lifting up to kick off his jeans. Armie took in the view of Timmy as he climbed back onto him, his dick flushed to his stomach, his thighs on either side of Armie’s waist.

“Fuck, I want to fuck you so bad.” Armie said, spreading his cheeks apart, making Timmy grind down with a gasp. 

“We are definitely on the same page.” Timmy nodded, tongue curled up to his teeth. “Lube.”

Armie watched him reach back, push two fingers into himself with his eyes closed, his head tipping back with every thrust. Armie rubbed the bottom of his tail bone.

“I can -”

“No - no. I got it.” Timmy said, leaning forward to balance himself on Armie’s chest. “Okay. Okayokay.” He guided Armie into him and breathed hard through his nose, slumped into Armie’s neck and started rocking slowly. “Fuck.”

“So fucking tight.” Armie breathed out, pushing Timmy’s hips onto him.

“Stop talking.” Timmy shook his head as he mouthed at his throat. So Armie pulled his hair again instead. Timmy sat back, put his hands on Armie’s thighs and fucked himself until he was whining, _touch me, touch me, touch me,_ and after Armie made him come, Timmy wrapped his arms around Armie’s neck, let Armie lie him down and pound into him hard and fast, his body pliant and sliding down the bed. 

“Yeah, come on.” Timmy kissed his shoulder. “Come on.”

Armie came so hard. He came harder than he did in that threesome sophomore year, when he let two girls from Delta Sig tie him up because they were older and giving him the time of day. 

“I’m gonna fucking regret _that_ in the morning.” Timmy sighed, his hand between his legs as Armie’s come dripped down his thighs. Armie pressed his own fingers to Timmy’s hole, making Timmy gasp and squirm and bat him away with his eyes closed. “Get away from me, asshole.” he pouted. 

“Feisty,” Armie mocked, finding a shirt on the floor and offering it for the mess.

“I’ll clean it up tomorrow,” Armie whispered, lathing his tongue over the back of Timmy’s neck to hopefully get across his intentions. 

“That’s so gross.” Timmy whispered back, scooting into him, plastering his back to Armie’s front and already sounding distant.

He woke up to Timmy scrolling through Twitter, still on his side. Timmy turned over when he heard him stirring.

“You snore.” He said pointedly, not looking up. 

“You talk loud.” Armie groaned, turning away from him. His head was pounding and from what he remembered last night, the dude was mouthy as fuck. 

They heard footsteps running down the hall and yelling in the distance. Timmy finally peered up with a startled look.

“What the fuck was that?”

Armie laughed into his pillow. “Do you know where you are?”

“Yeah, Kappa Yo Gabba Gabba, or whatever.” Armie rolled his eyes.

“Make fun all you want, you’re in this bed, aren’t you?”

He lifted his head to look at Timmy, saw his hesitant expression, like he didn’t have some snide remark to say. It woke him up instantly. 

“And you fucking loved it.” Armie grinned, climbing on top of him. “You’re loving it right now, if you didn’t you wouldn’t still be here.” 

Armie scraped the tip of Timmy’s chin with his teeth and heard Timmy’s breath hitch when he got his hand on his dick.

“Yeah, well. I believe I was promised something when I woke up.” Timmy said, a little high pitched and gripping onto Armie’s shoulder. “I’m just - _fuck_ \- cashing in.”

Armie kept his promise - licked Timmy clean until he was trembling, then fucked into him while he was still on his belly, coming with the view of Timmy clutching the sunny sheets, his cheek pressed to the mattress, practically drooling. 

“Why does the sex have to be so good?” Timmy whined, ass still arched up in the air when Armie flopped down next to him, cursing himself under his breath. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Armie laughed breathlessly. “I - ditto. _Fuck_. I’ve had a lot of sex, but.”

“Please stop making me regret letting you hit this raw.” Timmy interrupted, rubbing his face into the sheets. “ _Twice_ ,” He said, like an afterthought.

“I told you I’m clean,” Armie frowned. “You have easy access to see for yourself.” He gestured towards the wall closest to the door, where his results were framed and hung. Timmy squinted at it and his eyes darted back and forth, mouth going slack.

“Oh my fucking god what am I doing here.” He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Oh my god. _Oh my god_.”

“What?”

“That is - this is not normal.” Timmy made a box with his fingers as he pointed at the papers.

“But it _is_ helpful.” Armie reasoned, talking to him in slow nods. Timmy turned towards him with wide eyes, two fingers at his temple.

“You are - this is giving me the fucking chills.” He visibly shivered, picking up clothes from the ground, pulling on a long sleeve that was obviously not his. It went to mid thigh and had their letters on it, if the size didn’t give him away. He almost fell as he pulled on his jeans and Armie watched him blankly.

“That’s my shirt.” He deadpanned. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m majoring _in_ drama, so, thank you.” Timmy said with a sarcastic bow. He was still running around Armie’s room, stopping at his nightstand when he found his actual shirt laying there. Armie thought about rolling towards him as he changed, wrapping his arm around that long torso. It’d probably be easy to convince Timmy into one last fuck. But the thought quickly snapped him out of it, because he didn’t need to _convince_ anyone. So he kept his arms behind his head as Timmy pulled his shirt on, his eyes barely open as he watched him leave. 

It was whatever. He could fuck anyone he wanted. He didn’t need some melodramatic, pixie-looking dude and his pouty mouth.

\--

Two weeks later, Armie was at one of the last pool parties of the season, before the temperatures dropped and the sororities traded in their tube tops for sweaters and boot cuffs. 

“You on watch this early?” He heard from behind. It was Nick, one hand dragging a lawn chair to pull up next to him.

“Not really.” He replied, taking a swig from his bottle and looking up at him lazily through his sunglasses.

“Looked like you were scanning the place.” Nick shrugged. 

“Niki, come on.” Armie shook his head in mock disappointment. “They come to me.”

“Oh yeah, hot shot?” Nick laughed. “Like who?”

Armie gestured to the coolers with a nod. “Red shorts gave me a handy in the hot tub.” 

“Fuck you,” Nick groaned, flicking pieces of paper he’d been thumbing off of his beer. “Is there no concept of fucking sanctity?”

“Calm yourself,” Armie said, raising a hand. “I came in his mouth in the bathroom behind the kitchen.” He smiled sweetly until Nick huffed a laugh, shaking his head through a gulp. 

“You’re something else.”

Armie laughed, shrugged, saw dark curly hair in his peripherals and fucking froze. 

“You good bro?”

He wasn’t _looking_ for Timmy; at least that’s what he was going to keep telling himself. It wasn’t until a couple of days before that he started wondering about why Timmy was even _there_ that night. Drama majors weren’t usually flocking towards their house. He blamed the monotony of these mixers. He only ever saw the same fucking people over and over, and it was getting boring, so he was forced to think about things that didn’t really matter.

“What?” Armie said, turning back to Nick from where his neck was craned to the side. Two seconds looking at that ass and he knew it wasn’t him. He slumped back in his seat. “Yeah. I’m good.”

\--

Then Timmy was sitting on the grass. Armie never walked this way on Wednesdays, but he stopped at the ATM because it was $13 All You Can Drink Night at Varsity and he didn’t have cash. So now Timmy was sitting on the grass in the quad with huge headphones on, bouncing his leg even though they were criss-crossed. 

He was never one to avoid his hook ups on campus. It wasn’t like he was ever embarrassed, or regretful, or too drunk, even, not to give them a wink and a wave. This was just...that.

“What’s up?” He said, toeing Timmy’s boot. When he registered in Timmy’s eyes, all he saw was panic. Timmy pulled his headphones to rest on his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“I asked ‘what’s up’.” Armie shrugged.

Timmy frowned, going back to the notebook on his knee. “You’re wearing a backwards cap.”

“Yeah?” Armie looked at him quizzically, crouching down, lying back on his elbows with his legs straight out. 

“You’re wearing a backwards cap with sunglasses, when you could just wear it correctly without them.” Timmy said pointedly, pressing a little too hard as he wrote.

“Always trying to take my clothes off, huh?” Armie smiled, pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them into his shirt collar. 

“I’m not.” Timmy said, finally looking up. “I’m not.”

Armie tipped his head back, enjoying the afternoon sun falling through the trees. He should sit here more often.

“What are you doing later?” He asked after a while, leaning a foot against Timmy’s thigh, maybe rubbing it against, just a little.

“Nope.” Timmy shook his head, grabbing onto his shoe immediately. 

“What?” Armie huffed a laugh, feigning innocence.

“We’re not doing this.” Timmy said, pointing back and forth between them. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Armie said, hands lifting slightly in defense. 

“Yah, okay, frat boy, I know who you are.” Timmy rolled his eyes. Armie decided that was a smile he saw before Timmy’s head ducked back down.

“I know who _you_ are.” Armie replied. He sat up on his palms, scooted to lean over Timmy’s ear. “I know a lot of parts of you.” Timmy turned to him, inches apart, glanced down at where Armie’s mouth was slightly parted and upturned. 

“What a mistake.” He whispered, eyes fluttering up to meet his.

Armie slouched, letting out a huff and shaking his head. “Why did I not factor how annoying you are into seeing you again.” The words made Timmy scowl.

“Oh _really_. Sorry I don’t just fawn over you in silence and – wait, what do you mean factor in?”

Armie frowned, not understanding.

“What? Like you think about seeing me again?” Timmy smiled wickedly. Armie leaned away from him, eyes narrowing.

“ _No_ , that’s not what I –”

“Oh my god, do you write about me in your diary? How long have you been planning this?” 

“Shut the fu-“

Timmy placed a hand gingerly on his own chest, mouth mockingly agape. “Am I the best you’ve ever had?”

“Are you done?” Armie tilted his head coolly. 

Timmy shrugged. “For now.” He was grinning with no teeth, his eyes crinkled in delight. 

“You know you look like you’d be the brooding-in-silence type, and then you _speak_.”

That startled a laugh out of Timmy, same smug smile lighting up his face. His laugh sounded like a wheeze, and it was stupid. 

“I get that a lot.”

Armie glared at him, albeit lazily, and glanced down to where Timmy was playing with a button on his flannel.

“Why do I still want to blow you.” He said with repulsion in his voice. 

Timmy looked up with half his lip between his teeth. 

“How is _that_ what charms you into thinking about it?” Armie sat back up, incredulous.

“Shut up, you’re the one having wet dreams about me.” Timmy scoffed.

Armie sighed, looked out on the rest of the quad, saw people playing Frisbee to their left, thought about how stupid Frisbee was, thought about how stupid this conversation was too. 

“I’m leaving now,” He announced, as he pushed himself off the grass.

“Nice seeing you again, man.” Timmy said, hunching back over.

“Fuck you,” Armie laughed. Timmy stared up at him, his eyes light and mischievous, pulling his headphones back on and making a point to click his pen.

\--

That Saturday, they got to the bar a little before eleven, only a few of the brothers making it past their pregame at the house (no pledge leaves without the two 40-ounces duct taped to their fingers fucking _empty_ ). Armie was pretty buzzed. He and Nick had been matching shots for at least an hour and a half - he was still coherent enough to be aware of how loud he was getting, but not coherent enough to stop himself. He walked in with his arms already up, his top half sagging with every clump of people he bumped into until he got to the back of the place.

“Liz! Lizzie, we playin?” He asked, eyebrows up and wrist lazy as he pointed to the pool table. Liz wasn’t looking at him, but turned away from her conversation when she heard his voice, her hand wrapped around the pool cue she was leaning on and her eyes mid roll. 

“You are literally so bad at this, Armie.” She said, re-racking nonetheless.

Armie frowned at her, snagging a cue from the wall and rubbing chalk over the tip. 

“How could I be bad? I’m tall.”

“Completely unrelated.” Liz rasped, her face twisted from the drink she just gulped down.

He was very good at pool, even if at this particular moment, he couldn’t remember if he was stripes or solids. 

“What is, you know, _your_... favorite type of ball. Do you, um. Think.” Armie squinted, already nodding as he leaned on the table.

“I’m not telling you which ball you’re supposed to hit, Armie.” Liz deadpanned. “ _Again_.”

“Yeah, this was a mistake.” He turned around, gave the cue to the nearest dude with a pat on the chest and ran a hand through his hair, heading towards the bar. That was until he saw Timmy in one of the circle booths with, like, six other girls, sharing a pink fishbowl with the blonde one he vaguely remembered from that night at the party. 

“Hohhohoo _fuck_ yes.” He mumbled to himself, scooping popcorn out of the machine against the wall and popping a few in his mouth as he strolled over. Timmy didn’t see him yet; he was laughing at something one of them had said, his mouth going wide as his cheek rested against his fist. Armie could _hear_ that laugh, even without being able to actually hear it over the bar noise.

“Hi.” Armie grinned, his mouth half full as he stood in front of their table. “I’m Armie.” 

He wiped his popcorn fingers off on his shorts and shook their hands starting from the right, a few _beautiful name_ s and _nice to meet you, Armie_ s inserted into their introductions. Timmy was second to last, and when Armie got to him he had his fingers on his straw, sipping out of his huge drink, starring at him expectantly. Armie paused only briefly before skipping right over him.

“Hi, Armie, and you are?”

He heard Timmy practically choke with laughter, saw bubbles spurt up from the fishbowl, but kept his gaze on the girl Timmy was sharing drinks with. 

“Saoirse,” She sing-songed, a lilt of an accent Armie was too drunk to place. 

“Serrshaaa,” He repeated. “Like inertia!”

“That’s what they say,” Saoirse nodded, amused. Armie could see Timmy watching all of this unfold with his tongue in his cheek, stirring the drink, and Armie wanted to put _his_ tongue there. 

“Well, I – just wanted to make sure you all were having a good time.” Armie winked at them, hand going to the back of his neck. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were hosting the _entire bar_.” Timmy nodded with mock intrigue, prodding at ice.

“You’re lucky I told them to let you in, huh?” Armie said, pointing his finger obnoxiously close to Timmy’s face until it was pushed aside. 

“We’re gonna dance.” Timmy said, bumping Saoirse by the hip out of the booth. He tripped stepping down from the elevated platform and Armie caught him by the waist, dropping his popcorn and grunting on impact when Timmy’s hands flung to catch himself on his chest. 

“Okay,” Armie smiled, holding Timmy against him by the small of his back. Timmy rolled his eyes, but he was suppressing a smile of his own and didn’t push away for a significant beat.

“Not you.”

Timmy’s friends were chuckling behind their glasses as Armie watched him walk away. He nodded at them, _nice to meet you all_ , and went back to the pool tables to tug at Liz’s wrist.

“Dance with me,” He pleaded.

“She doesn’t want to go home with you, Armie,” she said, wriggling out of his grasp and bending over, calling the corner pocket.

“ _He_ , and he already has, once.”

“Yikes. Off your game?” She sunk it and began moving around to the other side.

“No, he’s just an asshole.”

“Then why are you going for him again?”

“Becaaause,” Armie drew out, circling the table to grab Elizabeth by the shoulders. “His asshole.”

“Armie! Shut the – you are so fucking vulgar!” She groaned, shaking him off.

“I’ll give you a pledge.”

When she paused to think, Armie knew he had her. 

“ _Yes_ , thank you, thank you, thank you,” He repeated, taking her hand. 

“I’m keeping him until the Delt house is _spotless_ ” she said behind him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah; of course.”

It wasn’t easy to hide on the dance floor; even with the changing colored lights and the music so loud it almost eliminated all of one’s senses entirely. Armie saw Timmy and Saoirse, tucked behind the stairs leading up to the platform that held the dancing pole. They were close, _really_ close, holding each other like they were familiar with how the other’s body moved, worked, felt. It was the same for him and Liz, her thigh finding it’s way between Armie’s and his hand going for the back of her neck. 

Timmy saw him when he looked up - his chin hooked over Saoirse’s shoulder - and his hands visibly clenched around her waist. Armie winked, pulling Liz closer to him, mouthing at her neck when Timmy held his gaze. 

Timmy whispered something to Saoirse and splayed his long fingers across her back, rubbing up and down, his curls bouncing into his eyes as he nuzzled under her jaw. Armie smiled as he pushed Saoirse away from himself to twirl her. He was actually a good dancer. 

From then on they were aware of each other on the dance floor. Timmy’s eyes on him were almost tangible, tickling up Armie’s neck as he would grind and move his hips with Elizabeth. They would catch the others eye as they dragged their hands over their partners, smiling wickedly through their eyelashes. As far apart as they were, Armie still felt a buzz of energy on his skin, even in his _dick_ as he watched Timmy roll his body into Saoirse and lick his lips under the strobe lights. More people crowded in, the music flowing easily into each new beat, and they stayed in each other’s line of sight, up until last call. 

“Alright, buster, time’s up.” Liz slid her hands to his waist and rubbed his ribs. “You owe me a drink, with all the feels I let you cop.” Armie laughed and kissed her cheek.

Timmy was pulling Saoirse off the dance floor. Right before he was hidden amongst the bodies, Armie saw him look up and _search for him_ , just for a moment, his eyes flitting upwards and around the room.

“Fuck, okay, Liz, I gotta –” he pulled cash out of his back pocket and pressed it into her palm, kissed her cheek again and pushed away, pushed through the crowds and towards where Timmy was headed. He was near the bathrooms when there was a tug on his wrist, and he toppled side ways into the wall, bracing one arm against it and the other on the culprit’s hip.

“C’mere, dumbass,” Timmy mumbled, pulling Armie the rest of the way, linking arms around his neck and kissing him hungrily. Armie groaned, catching up, and pressed Timmy into the wall with his body, nipping at his lips and hiking his leg up onto his thigh. Timmy exhaled at the new angle, wrapping more surely around him. They were practically dry humping right outside the bathroom doors. 

“Come home with me,” Armie whispered into his mouth, hand still under the inside of Timmy’s knee.

“Fine,” Timmy sighed, his eyes still closed, his lips still parted.

Armie chuckled, fished his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it with his thumb. Timmy was incredibly impatient, sucking on Armie’s jaw as he scrolled.

“You’re drunk,” Armie teased, getting kissed as soon as he gave Timmy his attention again. “You like me too much right now.”

“I like the way you fuck me,” Timmy shrugged, mouth creeping into a smile when he saw Armie’s eyes widen with lust. 

“‘Dan’ will be here in 4 minutes.” Armie showed him the phone quickly. “But in the mean time...” 

\--

“Just do it,” Timmy breathed, his clothes already off, climbing onto the bed on all fours. 

“Okay, bossy.” Armie said, rubbing lube up and down his cock before running a finger slowly between Timmy’s cheeks. Timmy hummed as Armie scissored him open, then whined for Armie to hurry the fuck up, reaching behind himself to pull Armie towards him, so he obliged, draping himself over Timmy and dragging the tip of his cock over his hole, kissing between his shoulder blades when he finally pushed in. Timmy tipped his head back and moaned. Armie held him there with a grip on his curls.

“So ready to take it.” He smiled against Timmy’s shoulder. 

“As if you haven’t been begging for it all night.” Timmy shot back, sucking air through his teeth when Armie pulled harder. 

“ _Mouthy_.” Armie stuttered, bottoming out and moving his hand to splay on Timmy’s stomach. “How am I supposed to fix that?” He shifted his hips and earned a keen from Timmy, so he gave him more - small, shallow thrusts that didn’t yet unstick their bodies from each other. 

“I – you – you’re not –” Timmy couldn’t get a word out, too busy trying to meet Armie’s thrusts with his own and biting back gasps. “Fuck, just do that again.”

“Okay.” Armie said with a breath, done riling Timmy up because it felt too good inside of him, hearing his moans and watching him try to get Armie deeper. He pulled back, clutched onto Timmy’s sides and started slamming his hips into him, sliding in and out of tight heat and running his hands up the skin of Timmy’s back.

For all that lead up to it, this fuck felt quick and dirty. Armie was glad, because it meant they were taking advantage of each other in the same way - pure indulgence and desire. Every sound of pleasure spurred him on, giddy with the way their tension was pulled out of him in each thrust.

“Still a mistake?” Armie asked, reaching around and thumbing the tip of Timmy’s dick, stroking him hard and fast to match his movements.

“I’ll let you know.” Timmy strained, his head lolling to the side when Armie started kissing his neck. Armie tasted salt on his skin, smelled the fruity drinks he’d been having all night, and felt the way his body stuttered to a stop against him. He came with a shaky breath into Armie’s hand, and Armie wasn’t far behind once he felt the pulsing of Timmy’s orgasm around him. He pulled out, giving himself a few more tugs until he came all over Timmy’s back, painting the slight dimples he had above his waist. He let out a hard breath and sagged, his hand slipping from Timmy’s hip and down his thigh.

“Why’d you do that,” Timmy pouted, rubbing his cheek on his shoulder, still in the same position. Armie pulled him upright by the chest and reached for a shirt that hung over his bed frame. 

“So I can do this,” He said, wiping Timmy up, who was mostly dead weight. “You complained last time. But you’re complaining again, so I’m thinking you just complain.”

“M’all sticky.” Timmy replied, not listening to Armie’s very rational response. Instead he just leaned back against him.

“How is this comfortable for you?” Armie questioned. He was still on his knees and yet he looked like he could fall asleep in two seconds. 

“Hmm?”

Armie rolled his eyes, manhandled them into bed and let Timmy turn over and hook a leg over his waist.

The next morning, he woke up first this time. Timmy slept with his mouth fully open, and was blowing hot breath onto his chest. He shifted until Timmy rolled onto his back and watched him kick the sheets off of himself, one leg bent and his hand on his stomach. Armie reached out to touch his soft looking skin, propping up on his elbow and running his fingers across both pecs. 

Timmy grumbled with his eyes closed. He tossed his head around lazily and stretched.

“Can I suck you off?” Armie whispered, rolling Timmy’s teeny nipple under his thumb. Timmy scrunched his eyebrows, as if trying hard to focus on nodding at him. Armie grinned triumphantly. He scooted down, spreading Timmy’s legs so he could lie between them. He took Timmy’s soft cock into his mouth and hollowed his cheeks, flattened his tongue.

“Show off,” Timmy gasped, when Armie fit most of him in one go. He could feel Timmy’s cock getting thick and heavy as he bobbed his head, saw him begin to arch up after a few minutes. He held Timmy’s hips down firmly and took him deeper, rubbing circles with his thumb and reveling in the husky moans it brought out of him, his voice still sleepy, his eyes still closed. Timmy’s hand came to rest on the back of Armie’s neck, his fingers lacing in and out of Armie’s hair.

“You gonna give me your phone number this time?” Armie smirked when he dragged his mouth off of him in a pop, turning his head to run his lips up Timmy’s shaft.

“Yes,” Timmy sighed, boneless and ready to please. 

\--

It wasn’t even a couple days after their reunion that Armie texted Timmy the first time.

A: Hey

Timmy replied almost immediately.

T: _class_

Armie laughed, leaning against his headboard. He could feel the anger from here.

A: i washed your come off my sheets

T: _cool!_

A: Wanna see?

He didn’t wait for a reply, just sent the picture of his hard cock in his hand, his thighs spread out and his thumb on the tip.

T: _you did NOT just make me open a picture of your dick in an 11 am lecture_

A: i forced nothing

A: i only create opportunities

A: ;) ;)

Timmy came within the hour, knocking on his door and coming in before Armie said anything, his backpack still on with his thumbs hooked in the straps. 

“What if I was literally anyone else?’ He said, frowning at the fact Armie was still just as naked on his bed. Armie shrugged, closing the book he was skimming through for his next class.

“I mean in theory you all have seen each other’s dicks, for like, measuring purposes, so I guess –”

“Oh my _god_ , are you going to take your clothes off within this century?” 

Timmy came _within the hour_ , meaning, Armie had been horny within this _entire hour_. Did they really need to do this whole thing or could Armie get his hands on him already?

“You mean I’m not here for study group?” Timmy questioned. He peeled off his backpack one strap at a time, then fixed his hair, then shimmied to pull one arm out of his hoodie, and Armie was out of the bed before he could fit his elbow through the hole.

“ _What?_ ” His eyes wide, obviously holding back a laugh and backing into Armie’s desk.

Armie yanked the hoodie off and tugged down his joggers. He wasn’t wearing underwear, _fuck_. He reached down, grabbing Timmy’s ass in both hands and mouthing at his neck. He heard Timmy’s breath hitch, and he squeezed Armie’s biceps as Armie lifted him onto the desk, his calf knocking a stray drawer shut and loose pens clattering onto the floor. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Armie asked pointedly, massaging Timmy’s hips as he whispered in his ear.

“Honestly, the fact that you can lift me up is beyond hot,” Timmy strained, pulling Armie closer and spreading his legs. 

“Yeah? You using me for my monster height?” Armie grinned, scraping his teeth on Timmy’s neck and getting a hand around both of them. 

“Yes.” Timmy said simply. “And your monster cock.”

“Fuck,” Armie gritted, bucking up to where he held them together. He heard Timmy chuckle. He was so close that he wasn’t even irritated by it.

They wiped up come with his stack of post-its. Well, Armie did. Timmy put his forehead on Armie’s shoulder and whined until Armie carried him to his mattress.

He woke up to leave an hour later, yawning, nuzzling the pillow, stretching and starting to search for his clothes. His naked body looked fucking enticing as he walked away from him, how his shoulder blades poked out and his back curved. Armie wanted his tongue on every part of him.

“Uh, I have Com Theory in twenty minutes.” He said, fixing the hood on his jacket, when Armie told him as much. “But, you know, next time.” 

Armie was glad they were on the same page about there being a next time.

\--

That pretty much set the precedent of Timmy coming over multiple times a week. Nearly every time Armie was horny, actually, because why the fuck wouldn’t he take advantage of a hot dude with a nice ass that reluctantly tolerated him so they could have really good sex? 

Timmy was stubborn as fuck, had an attitude the size of his hair when it stuck up in the mornings, yet somehow the look of his lips when he smirked, or wrapped them around the head of his cock made up for that.

The dude could not keep his eyes open after he came, though.

“You know if you don’t have a bed you could have just told me,” Armie said one afternoon. “I am happy to trade sex for housing.” 

Timmy was curling up under his armpit, nudging Armie’s arm away with his nose. “I have a bed, dick,” he said, soft but not without it’s usual sass. Armie rolled his eyes, moved an arm around his shoulders anyway.

He put on some Netflix original he’d been meaning to watch, a thriller about a guy that got roped into working with the Mexican drug cartel. He didn’t even realize Timmy was awake until someone got shot on screen and he flinched on his chest, squeezing harder on Armie’s waist.

“Shit.” Timmy mumbled. He stayed for one more episode after that.

He never saw Timmy around campus, but he saw his friend Saoirse _a lot_ for some reason. _Saoirse like inertia_ , he would salute with a grin, and she would wiggle her fingers at him with crinkled eyes. 

“Who was that?” Nick asked once, when Armie waved at her as they crossed the street toward each other.

“I’ve been fucking her best friend.” Armie said, while smiling and nodding to two other people he recognized.

“Wow, like, repeatedly?” Nick said, looking taken aback.

“Okay, shithead,” Armie laughed. “Like I haven’t done that before.”

“You really haven’t.” Nick said pointedly. 

Armie decidedly shook off the comment with a shrug. It was fun; not some significant rift in Armie’s so-far consistently inconsistent sex life. This was no different from any other hook ups he’d had.

\--

“So I walk into the left wing and _no one is looking at me_.” 

Armie looked up from his laptop to see Timmy walking into his room, taking off some fat scarf even though it wasn’t even cold outside today, fishing out his wallet and putting it on Armie’s nightstand.

“It’s like _highschool_. Except everyone knows bigger words, and feels even more entitled now that they’re closer to a degree.” He pulled off his jeans and straddled Armie’s waist, pushing Armie’s shirt up and running over his stomach, his ribs, his chest, barely giving him enough time to react and toss his computer to the other side of the bed. 

“ _Fuck_ ” He groaned, grinding down onto Armie’s crotch and hunching over to suck on Armie’s neck. 

“Am I dreaming?” Armie said, grabbing Timmy’s hips and arching up into him as he unbuttoned his shorts and got his hand underneath the fabric.

“We always fuck on Thursdays,” Timmy said into his skin, his hot breath heating him up. Armie lifted Timmy’s chin to get at his lips and he hummed into the kiss. “And I needed this after the day I’ve had.”

“So what, the Ansel fucker got the part?” Armie panted, chasing Timmy’s mouth with a hand on his jaw, making to sit up as Timmy leaned back to take off his long sleeve. 

“No,” Timmy said, pulling it over his head. “I got the part.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Armie grinned, flipping them over. Timmy gave him a small smile, half lidded, and Armie kissed his stomach, hooking his fingers into his boxers and pulling them down.

“No one thought I was going to, not even _me_ , so.” He laced his fingers in Armie’s hair. “Drama.”

“Bet I can cheer you up.” Armie said, patting one hip so Timmy would turn around. He laughed at the excited noises Timmy made as he shimmied up the bed on his stomach, hugged the pillow closest to him and burrowed. Armie ran fingers down his back to make him shiver, parted his cheeks and licked one long stripe over his hole. Timmy sighed, arching his back as Armie made his tongue rigid and firm then soft and lazy against him, sucking slowly then pushing inside to make him moan.

“This is what I’m using you for,” Armie said, biting one cheek hard before soothing it with his tongue.

“Yes, _please_ yes.” Timmy begged, sounding broken.

He fucked in and out of him until Timmy was grinding into the mattress. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Timmy babbled, pushing up to his knees. “Please, Armie –”

“Want you to come like this first,” Armie said lowly, pressing the flat of his tongue to him.

“ _Fuck_.” He was rocking backwards erratically, riding Armie’s mouth and making the best sounds Armie’d ever heard. 

He got a hand around Timmy’s cock after minutes of begging from him. These were always the pockets of time that Armie craved, when he was able to to strip every bossy bone from Timmy’s body and just leave him needy and pliant. All he needed was Timmy’s mouth lazily sucking on the head of his cock before he was coming right after him, already worked up over seeing Timmy spread out like this.

He cleaned them up, moved Timmy away and out of the wet spot of the sheets but he just climbed on top of Armie to sleep instead. He didn’t try to reach for his laptop, just scrolled through his phone and drew on Timmy’s back with his fingers.

“Did you finish the last one?” Timmy asked when he woke up, rubbing his eyes.

Armie shook his head and gestured to the other side of the bed. Timmy rolled, pulling the laptop towards them and giving it to Armie to fiddle with. 

\--

When Timmy was into TV shows, he was _into TV shows_ , which is what Armie learned in the next coming weeks.

“The fact that his wife still doesn’t know is bullshit.” Timmy frowned, shaking his head as he scrolled to skip through the next intro sequence. 

“Yeah, it’s weird she can’t hear you from all the yelling you do at the screen.” He rested his arm on Timmy’s head, fingers combing his hairline. When Timmy reached to pull the laptop closer, he pushed him away.

“Nope. You always touch the screen and mess it up. It stays on my side.”

“Because touchscreen computers are stupid and I forget that you’re stupid enough to have one.” Timmy pouted, still reaching for it fruitlessly. 

“Why do you even need to touch the screen? There is never a reason to touch the screen, ever, and you do it constantly.”

“I _don’t_ ,”

“It’s because you’re always pointing at things. _Armie, what’s that guy’s name again, Armie, he’s hiding a gun, Armie, is she okay? Is she okay? Holy fuck, is she okay?_ ” He mimicked Timmy effortlessly, poking him in the shoulder just like how he tapped on the screen.

“I didn’t know I was that annoying to you,” Timmy said sarcastically, making to scoot away. Armie pulled him in by the waist.

“We both know you’re that annoying,” He said, rubbing his back. “Want pizza?”

Timmy nestled back into him with a small smile. “We just had pizza.”

“Chinese, then.”

“Get me –”

“The side of pineapple fried rice instead of the noodles.” Armie finished.

“Yup.” Timmy said, without turning towards him. He paused the screen while Armie dialed.

\--

Armie didn’t even mind that Timmy started calling his dick Little Armand, but he said he did, because that was them. Their insults stopped holding heat a while ago.

\--

It was the week of midterms, so Armie was at his desk when Timmy opened his door. He looked beat, his eyes were a little puffy and Armie swore he was wearing the same sweater he saw him in on Saturday (or took off of him, actually). He sat down on the edge of Armie’s bed, toeing off his shoes and setting his backpack below him. Armie swiveled towards him, running his foot up Timmy’s calf.

“How’d studying go?” 

“Didn’t sleep,” Timmy said, rubbing his eyes. “My first test was this morning at 8.”

“Do you feel good about it?” 

Timmy shrugged and licked his lips, his eyes blinking open. Armie frowned at him worriedly. 

“Come on,” He said, hand out stretched. “We can sleep for a bit.”

“I can’t,” Timmy groaned. “I have to study with Saoirse.”

“When?”

“Like, thirty minutes.”

Armie sighed. “Tim, you’re tired, you think I don’t know when you’re about to pass out? That’s literally all you do.” 

“Do not,” He said, his eyebrows scrunched.

“Do too,” Armie smiled, standing up and tugging Timmy’s sleeve. “Let’s go to bed.” Timmy's eyes followed him.

“I bet you say that to everyone,” he accused, turning around watching as Armie pulled his shirt off.

“I can honestly say I've never asked someone to follow me to a sexless nap before,” Armie laughed.

Timmy bit his lip pensively and conceded, crawling up towards the pillows, finally smiling and holding his arms up when Armie fingered the hem of his shirt too, with a click of his tongue and a _you don't need this_. Armie wrapped his arm around his waist, nudging his phone at Timmy’s chest.

“Tell Saoirse you’re gonna be late.” He whispered, kissing his shoulder blade. 

“Okay.” Timmy said, his hand on Armie’s as he dialed. 

\--

Once midterms were over, Armie got absolutely wasted. He took a shot of Everclear because it was Nick’s new kick - he’d given him a very enthusiastic lecture on it the day before, about how much money they’d save getting fucked up from one shot instead of 4 or 5. They went barhopping, and when he got to the one he’d seen Timmy in all those weeks ago, he grinned at the circle booths against the wall, imagined Timmy’s dumb coy mouth on the tip of his straw. So much fucking _work_. 

He got out his phone and snapchatted one of them, zooming in and out of the booth with his finger. “TBT to when you didn’t want to fuck me,” he said in the background. He found Timmy’s name in his recents and pressed send.

His phone buzzed with Timmy’s reply after he got his drink. It was a picture of just his eyes at the bottom of his screen looking unimpressed. Above his head, he captioned it, _It’s not even Thursday._

Armie turned the camera to face him. He held down record and frowned, and at the last second, clinked his drink with the phone repeatedly and took a sip. “Where are you?” he slurred. Pressed send. He scrolled through the app for a second and tapped Timmy’s name when he saw he posted on his story. 

_No more midterms!_ The caption said. It was Saoirse with a drink in her hand. He _knew_ that restaurant. It was definitely in walking distance. 

Before Armie thought about it he was walking out of the bar and down the street, then around the corner, not knowing how he was even remembering the way. He smiled widely at the hostess, charming her into pointing towards a table in the back of the place. When Timmy saw him, he didn’t even look surprised, just gave him a half smile and waved.

“God, you’re drunk.” He said as Armie slid in next to him, as Armie put a hand very high up his thigh. Armie held his head up on the table with the other. 

“I am feeling very good, actually.” Armie said, side eyeing him. “Sober, even. I need a drink!” He raised his hand but Timmy put it down before the waiter could see, which was rude. 

“Timothée,” He frowned, holding Timmy’s hand to his chest. Timmy only smiled up at the ceiling, shaking his head. (Probably remembering the week before, when Armie saw the drivers license in his wallet and wrestled him into submission until he got the pronunciation out of him.)

“Saoirse like inertia,” He said, attention shifting, his voice trailing off as his head went to rest on the table “How are you.”

“Good, Armie. Is Helms treating you well?” Armie looked back up and grinned, nodded, went back down.

“You have class together?” Timmy asked. Armie scooted closer to his voice. It was a second before Timmy started rubbing his back.

“No, but I see him in the building sometimes. He leaves Dr. Helms’s classroom while I’m walking towards Dr. Burke’s.”

“In the Humanities building?” Timmy sounded confused. Armie turned his head to look up at him. 

“I’m an Art History major,” He whispered loudly, to help.

“You’re a – you are?” Armie nodded, his temple sliding on the hard surface. “I didn’t...what are you gonna do with it?” It made Armie laugh. He sat back up, pointing at him with a snap of his fingers. “You and my father would get along nicely.” 

Timmy’s eyes went wide, and Saoirse giggled, which made Armie laugh harder, until they were in a fit. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Armie just shrugged. 

“So what, are you sipping tea in front of Picasso murals and seeing if you get a boner?” Saoirse asked, still laughing, her chin in her hand. Armie slapped the table.

“Picasso. Was. Shitttttt.” He said, apparently too loud, because Timmy was shushing him and Saoirse was laughing harder. “Primitivism was fucking cultural appropriation.”

“Jesus Christ,” He heard Timmy whisper. 

Timmy pushed Armie into an Uber some time later, climbing in with him after kissing Saoirse on the cheek. He didn’t really remember what else happened at the restaurant, only sleeping on Timmy’s shoulder and random images of Saoirse across from them. When they got to the house Timmy put an arm around him and dragged him toward the door. 

(Armie did not teach Timmy their secret knock, and even if he did, hypothetically, it was only because Timmy wouldn’t let him come unless he hit the pattern across the headboard, kept releasing his dick at the last second until Armie relented. Armie fucked the smug smile off his face afterwards, and made him promise not to use it to open doors. You know, hypothetically.)

“Are you going to help me get you up the stairs at all?” Timmy panted. Armie was hanging all over him, laughing as Timmy pulled them and nibbling at his ear.

“You’re dragging me to bed.” Armie grinned. “Instead of me dragging you.”

“You don’t drag me, Armie.” Timmy huffed, getting a better grip on his waist.

“Used to.” Armie said, tugging a strand of hair on his forehead. “So fucking stubborn.”

“Yeah, well you were a fucking sleaze bag.” Timmy said. When they got to his room he sat Armie on the bed, turned his legs onto the mattress after taking off his shoes. 

“Still?” Armie asked. Timmy was plugging his phone into his charger, then ducking underneath his bed, pulling a water bottle from the case he kept there and setting it next to him.

“You’re wearing a Hawaiian shirt with the first four buttons open, Armie.” He was smiling when he said it, tugging at one side of the collar like he did when Armie had him up against the counter of their party. Armie caught his hand there and frowned.

“Am I still?” He repeated. Timmy stared at him for a second before shrugging minutely, thumb going back to rubbing at the fabric.

“I’ll let you know.” 

\--

Timmy didn’t stay over. When Armie woke up and remembered the night before, realized _why_ Timmy didn’t stay over, he cupped both sides of his neck and groaned. 

He fucking _ambushed_ Timmy’s night out, as if they did that all the fucking time, as if they always hung with Timmy’s friends and Timmy always got him home safe and tucked him into bed. He _definitely_ was holding Timmy’s hand at one point of the night. _Fuck_. What was he thinking? It was embarrassing, and it wasn’t them, wasn’t _Armie_. He couldn’t remember someone other than his brothers ever having to make sure he was okay like that. He’d overstepped the unspoken boundaries they’d made with each other, _grossly_ overstepped them.

He had a sick feeling in his stomach. The only conclusion he could come to was that he ruined something. Timmy didn’t want to be a fucking babysitter. He turned on his side, trying to go back to sleep but reaching for his phone instead.

“You’re alive.” Was the first thing Timmy said to him when he answered.

“I – yeah.” Armie said, chuckling awkwardly. “Look, I feel like I should apologize to you.”

“Because you got a little drunk?” Timmy laughed. “It was midterms, I’m not fouling you for it.” He sounded like he was moving, busy, like he didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Armie winced.

“I know but I made a fucking fool of myself.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t go out with you and Saoirse. You shouldn’t take my drunk ass home. It’s not our place.” The movement seemed to stop on the other line.

“Not our place.” Timmy repeated.

“I was wrong.” Armie went on. “We don’t do that. And I’m sorry for putting you in the position.”

“Right.”

The line was silent. Armie didn’t know what else to say. 

“I hope I didn’t permanently fuck things up,” He chose. Timmy still said nothing. “Timmy? I –”

“You know what’s really fucking rich, Armie? Is that you think I’m the stubborn one.”

“What does that even –”

“Lose this number.” The line went dead. 

Armie was frozen, the phone still up to his ear. The way Timmy spoke was like...like that first morning after the party. Like Armie was _disgusting_ again. When had that stopped? At what point had Armie gotten used to not hearing Timmy sound so full of disdain for him?

He let out a breath. It was whatever. It was _fine_. He’d stepped over the line and Timmy was done. A clean break.

Armie didn’t even think about how this would end, which probably was what was making his chest feel so bloated and confused. He hadn’t prepared himself, didn’t know _how_ to prepare - he’d never hooked up with the same person more than _maybe_ three times. He took for granted how permanent Timmy felt. 

But Timmy just ended it. It was so easy for him to decide to never see Armie again. _Lose this number,_ he kept hearing over and over in that biting tone. Was it that easy? It should be, it was only sex. He turned off his phone. Chucked it to the bottom corner of his bed. Could he think of this as a loss when he didn’t have anything in the first place?

Nick barged into his room that night with the stupid fucking Everclear in his hand.

“Dude, it’s almost 9 and you don’t have one shot in you. Catch _up_.”

Armie was lying on his stomach, head propped up on his elbow. He glanced up at him briefly before looking back to his laptop screen. “Go on without me dude. I’m still hungover.” 

“Are you kidding me? Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

Armie just shrugged. 

“It’s fall break! No classes until Wednesday and you’re telling me you’re gonna waste a Saturday night?” 

“I’m not feeling up to it, man. I think I’m coming down with something.” Nick gave him a funny look.

“Armie. Last year, during Greek Week, you were 2 days into having the flu when you did that kegstand at the Delt house.” 

“That was really fucking shitty of me, huh? Like, how many people probably got the flu after that?”

“You know that’s not my point. I’m saying you’re Armie fucking Hammer, and we’ve lived together since freshman year so I _know_ you. So what is actually going on?”

“ _Nothing,_ ” Armie insisted. Nick stood there with his arms crossed, the bottle of alcohol tucked into his elbow.

“You’re fucking ditching us for your boy aren’t you?”

Armie looked up, startled. “When have I done that, ever?”

“Uh, Beta party last week - you left after one beer, the bowling night mixer, lunch two days ago,” Nick’s voice trailed, his fingers counting up as he listed. Armie’s mouth parted, but he didn’t know what to say. “And those are just the recent ones.”

Armie thought back. He’d been sexting Timmy at the Beta party, so that one was easy. The night of the mixer Timmy was out cold – Armie had worked three fingers into him and watched him come _untouched_ \- and Armie didn’t think it was important enough to wake him up. Lunch? Yup, he was with Timmy then too, who had given him study ~incentives~ that he wanted to cash in on.

“Fuck, I didn’t realize it was that many times,” He whispered under his breath, his eyes flitting.

“It’s fine dude, you could have just told me the truth though. There’s no reason I wouldn’t be happy for you.”

Armie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re dating. You didn’t have to hide it; no one would think less of you for settling down.”

“I – uh... We weren’t actually. Dating. And he ended it today, so.”

“Oh.” 

Armie nodded.

“But you weren’t dating?” 

Armie shook his head.

“I mean we hung out a lot,” Armie reasoned. “And we had a lot of sex.”

“By hang out you mean...”

“Got food... watched Netflix? I don’t know? Talked?” Armie squirmed, feeling uncomfortable breaking their normal bubble of privacy. Nick nodded.

“Yeah, dude. That’s pretty much dating.”

“Fuck,” Armie said, rubbing his eyes with both hands. “Is that why this feels so shitty?”

“Probably,” Nick chuckled. He uncrossed his arms, looked down at the bottle and offered it up in question. Armie waved it away, still processing.

“He like... he cut me off so quick.” Armie laughed humorlessly. “I don’t think he thought it was that. It was too easy for him to pull away.”

“Well what did you say before he did that?”

“I called him, and I was apologizing for last night. I had... crashed his dinner with a friend and I wanted him to know I wouldn’t do that again. That I didn’t want to ruin what we already had.”

Nick squinted at him. “And what is that? You hiding him away in this room? Having five minute conversations between the sex? You pretty much told him you don’t want to be seen with him, Armie. That you’re using him. That’s fucked.”

“I thought that was all this was!”

“Maybe it started out that way, but obviously it’s not like that anymore.” 

Armie let out a breath. 

“Wow, what a fucking mic drop. I’m amazing.” Nick started turning around. “Everclear’s still here for you man, anytime you want it.”

Armie laughed. “I’m pouring that down the fucking sink as soon as you’re not looking.” Nick flipped him off behind his back and closed the door.

Armie looked at his phone at the other end of the bed. Should he call him? What Nick said sort of made sense, but Armie was so sure they’d been on the same page this whole time. He reached for it and watched it turn on. 

He fiddled with it at first – not ready to do anything rash – plus three people wanted to follow him on Instagram, and his grade for Roman Antiquity was out. He opened Snapchat, because there was a little red notification in the corner. In big bold letters was Timmy’s name – Friday 10:28 pm – last night.

 _I’m at Brickhouse with Saoirse. You could come by if you want._ There was more of him in this picture than the first one, a peace sign in the corner and a small scrunched up smile. Armie looked at it until the timer ticked down to zero, holding his finger on the photo as if that would make it stay longer. He kept looking even after it shrunk back down to just Timmy’s name. 

“I am such a fucking idiot.” He whispered.

Timmy fucking _invited_ him to join them and he didn’t even see it. That means, he literally fucking called Timmy this morning to tell him he didn’t want Timmy to invite him places anymore. He was _such a fucking idiot_. Timmy _wanted_ him there.

He pressed Timmy’s contact and it went to voicemail. He pressed it again. Again. _Fuck_. He wasn’t going to fucking answer him. Of course not. 

Armie’s leg was bouncing restlessly on the bed. Then he remembered something.

“Holy fucking hell.”

Timmy had used his phone to call Saoirse on Monday because he was going to be late to their study date. He winced at the thought of his chin hooked over Timmy’s shoulder as he talked to her, giggling into the phone when Armie started drawing patterns on his chest. How had he not seen how intimate that was?

The phone was ringing, which was promising.

“Hi, Armie.”

“Saoirse –”

“Timmy went home for fall break.”

“He –”

“It was a last minute thing, since you decided to be a douchebag.”

“I thought I ambushed your dinner! I didn’t see his snap, I just recognized the restaurant from his story. I thought I was a fucking creeper.” He said it quickly before she could interrupt.

Saoirse didn’t say anything for a second. 

“So you -”

“I thought that’s what he wanted. For things to stay the same. But now I know he doesn’t.”

“And you don’t?”

“And I don’t.”

“God, you’re both so stupid.”

\--

He had all of fall break to realize where Timmy would be on a Wednesday.

"Hey.” 

Timmy looked up from where he was sitting on the grass. “Fuck off.”

“ _Timmy,_ ”

“Armie, we don’t need talk to each other unless your dick’s up my ass.” Armie flinched. “So keep moving, because that’s not happening any time soon.”

Armie sat down, which made Timmy start shoving his notebook in his bag. 

“Timmy, how was I supposed to know?” He pleaded. Timmy was already up on his feet.

“Know _what_?” He spat. “How to treat someone like a human being?” He shook his head and turned to walk away.

“That I was allowed to have feelings for you.” Armie called out. Timmy stopped. 

“You think I’ve ever done this before?” Armie continued, getting up. “That I know what dating even looks like? Nick informed me that it’s this.” Timmy’s back was still towards him, so he walked around to face him. “It never occurred to me that you would want more... that you _could_ want more with... _me_. You know I followed you to that restaurant? I didn’t even see that you invited me. I thought I ruined _everything_.” He said, voice breaking to a whisper.

Timmy was playing with his fingers, his hair all in his face. Armie waited for him to say something.

“Well he was wrong.” He finally said with a sniff.

“What?” Armie frowned.

“Nick was wrong, dating’s between two people.” Armie squinted quizzically.

“Wait, do you –“ Armie smiled, laughed, almost deliriously. “Timmy, I haven’t been sleeping with anyone other than you.” He pushed Timmy’s hair behind his ear and lifted his chin. He felt like his heart was going to fall out of his chest with affection. They both really were stupid.

Timmy allowed Armie to pull his head up, still looking suspicious. “You haven’t?” Armie shook his head.

“Not since I picked you up from the bar.”

“Since _I_ picked _you_ up from the bar.” Timmy corrected. Armie rolled his eyes, petted Timmy’s cheek with his thumb.

“I missed you.” He said, making Timmy’s head shake, his lip between his teeth. 

“It was four days.”

“Yeah, four days without your favorite song of the week stuck in my head, or your drool all over my arm, or my computer reloading to Facebook because your favorite characters on the screen.” Timmy laughed. His laugh sounded like a wheeze, and Armie loved how stupid it was. “I’m sorry.” He added.

When Timmy sobered, he nodded, his eyes wide and glancing down at Armie’s lips. He blinked, half lidded. 

“Am I forgiven?” Armie smiled, pulling him closer. Timmy nodded more, faster and faster until he closed the distance between them, kissing Armie and making him hold his weight. Armie laughed, bent down to wrap his arms around Timmy’s middle and lifted him off the ground. Timmy squawked, but his legs went around Armie’s waist and his hands came up to grasp either side of Armie’s face as he kissed him and kissed him and kissed him in the middle of the quad.

“You should put me down.” Timmy laughed breathlessly, his hands petting Armie’s hair.

“Why?” Armie frowned. “You think this is hot.”

\--

“ _Armie_ ,” Timmy sighed, arching off the mattress.

“Shhh,” he soothed, one hand on Timmy’s stomach as he pushed two fingers inside of him. He put his lips on the soft skin of his groin and sucked, making Timmy jump and squirm. 

“Fuck you,” Timmy groaned. Armie laughed.

“Sensitive?”

“You know that fucking is.”

Armie bit down on the inside of his thighs, spreading his fingers apart and adding a third.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me, right?” He said, glancing up at Timmy through his eyelashes. He knew that face well enough, could see the way Timmy’s eyelashes were fluttering in pleasure.

“I’m not.” Timmy shook his head.

“Timmy,” He said warningly.

“I’m _not_ ,” Timmy practically yelled. He put his hands on Armie’s cheeks to pull him up, gave incessant kisses to Armie’s jaw, neck, chin. “Fuck me,” He panted, touching their foreheads together. 

“Okay,” Armie nodded, kissing him once. 

Timmy’s legs went up over his shoulders and he pushed in slowly, watching as Timmy’s mouth went slack, practically bent in half. 

“So pretty,” Armie whispered, snapping his hips quickly and pushing Timmy further into the mattress. He was already going pliant, the arms wrapped around Armie’s neck getting limp. Armie reached between them, Timmy only needing a few tugs before he was coming into Armie’s hand. Armie kissed his neck as he came down. 

Timmy brought Armie’s hand to his mouth as he pulled out, licked his fingers with his eyes closed until Armie was spilling onto his stomach with a whispered _fuck_. Timmy smiled when Armie flopped down on him, hugging his waist and nuzzling into his neck. 

“I fucking knew it.” Armie huffed, when he sat up and Timmy clung to his neck.

“I’m awake,” Timmy whispered against him.

“This is what I get for letting you seduce me.” Armie sighed, putting a hand on his back to hold him there.

“ _Letting me_ ,” Timmy scoffed. “I’m irresistible.”

“Yeah, well I fuck you into unconsciousness, so I think I win.”

“You do.” Timmy mumbled. “Fuck me so good.” He blindly searched for Armie’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “Thank you.” Armie laughed.

“Such a fucking sweet talker.” He held Timmy’s wrist and kissed his palm. “This is what gets me in trouble.”

“ _Armie!_ ” Elizabeth yelled from out the door. “The party bus is leaving in _5 minutes_ , get the fuck out here already!”

“I’m working on it!” Armie yelled back. He maneuvered them to standing position. Timmy was still a weight on his chest. 

“You know how much Liz will kill me if her last winter formal goes wrong, Timothée.” He chastised in a whisper, tugging on his curls.

“Do it for me,” Timmy grumbled, his elbows curling in. 

“God fucking damnit.” He steadied one hand on Timmy’s hip as he reached for the slacks hanging on his closet door. “Where the fuck did your boxers go?” He whispered incredulously. Timmy’s shoulders shook as he giggled.

They made it with seconds to spare and a very disappointed look from Elizabeth.

“He’s insufferable!” Armie tried to explain.

“Timmy is perfect,” Liz said, matter of fact. Timmy grinned when she kissed his forehead, then stuck his tongue out at Armie as she walked down the aisle of side facing seats.

“So fucking smug.” Armie whispered, kissing the same spot and shuffling them towards seats. Someone passed drinks around, and at one point Nick was sliding on the stripper pole in the middle. Armie laughed, tipping back his beer, and turned to Timmy when his hand covered the one Armie had on his thigh. 

“You having fun?” Armie asked. Timmy nodded with a smile.

“I wanna dance, okay?” He asked, chin on Armie’s shoulder. “When we get there.”

“With me this time?” Armie answered, squeezing his leg.

“Yes,” Timmy laughed, leaning forward for a kiss. Armie obliged, obviously.

The dance floor of the ballroom was already packed when they walked in, the DJ playing something loud with a bumping bass. Armie grabbed Timmy’s hand, wove them through the tables and pulled him in when they got to it, holding him close by the small of his back. Timmy wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, long and slow, until Armie pulled them apart so he could spin him by the fingers.

“So, dating really _is_ the same thing as what we were doing before, huh?” Armie said thoughtfully, his hands back around him. “Because three weeks in and I’m fucking killing it.” He grinned when Timmy rolled his eyes.

“You never took me outside, so no, it’s not.” 

“Uh, from what I remember, you never took _me_ outside either.” Armie countered, and when Timmy mimicked him mockingly, he did it right back until they were both just smiling softly, and Timmy rested his cheek on Armie’s chest.

“Is it okay that I love you already?” Armie asked, his nose in Timmy’s hair. Timmy lifted his head, his eyes wide before pursing his lips in a smile.

“Armie,” He laughed, bringing his hand to Armie’s cheek. “You’re wearing a suit with little Pac-mans all over it. I love you already too.”

**Author's Note:**

> [pacman suit](https://www.macys.com/shop/product/opposuits-mens-slim-fit-pac-man-suit-tie?ID=2833991&pla_country=US&CAGPSPN=pla&CAWELAID=120156340007565089&CAAGID=55853007783&CATCI=pla-470948715590&cm_mmc=Google_Mens_PLA-_-Crealytics-Camato-Menswear-Generic-GS_opposuits---mens---suits-_-282257502421-_-pg9421157_c_kclickid_f58afbd3-49d7-4156-9401-a240c2d5fa49&trackingid=403x9421157&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIsIDk9s2L3QIVQr7ACh0MKQT5EAQYASABEgKa3fD_BwE)
> 
>  
> 
> Everclear's a grain alcohol thats 190 proof - I don't know if that's common knowledge. You're not supposed to drink it straight, but I know many a frat boy with this same theory.
> 
> This was the hardest thing I've ever done. Remind me to never veer from fluff ever again.
> 
> [tumblr](http://nellipot.tumblr.com)


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